


Leashed

by Laylah



Category: Last Remnant
Genre: Breathplay, Collars, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-29
Updated: 2009-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all of Rush's optimism, David is sure it will be only a matter of time before the Seven -- Enlightened or not -- feel the need to test them somehow. They are not soldiers; discipline does not come easily to them. The only question is which of them will seek to test the company's limits first, and David has a short list of suspects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leashed

For all of Rush's optimism, David is sure it will be only a matter of time before the Seven -- Enlightened or not -- feel the need to test them somehow. They are not soldiers; discipline does not come easily to them. The only question is which of them will seek to test the company's limits first, and David has a short list of suspects.

They are in Baaluk when it happens; possibly that's deliberate, an attempt to take advantage of how isolated they are, or possibly -- like most things with the Seven -- it's barely controlled chaos. David is climbing the stairs from the pub's common room to the bed chambers when he hears hurried footsteps behind him, heavy on the creaking staircase.

He begins to turn, but before he really has the chance, his pursuer catches up to him, pushing him roughly against the wall of the landing. "Evening, your lordship," Young says, breathy and hungry, in David's ear.

"Young," David says, tense but not struggling yet, trying to assess how much of a threat he truly presents. "What can I do for you?"

"Had a question," Young says. "Me and the guys, we've been wondering. You went and got us off the old leash, but how about you?" He hooks his fingers in the black leather strap around David's throat. "Whose collar you wearing, huh?"

He's pulling tight enough that breathing is uncomfortable, speaking difficult; David does his best not to betray his discomfort. "Anyone crude enough to demand such a visible sign of my allegiance would be unworthy of it," he says.

Young leans into him harder -- trusting to his greater bulk to let him keep the advantage, it seems. "Fancy way of ducking the question," he says. He's pushing with his hips first, more than enough to make his intentions plain.

David glances back over his shoulder, so Young can see him smile. "Are you telling me you're up for the challenge?"

Young's eyes light up, and for a second his grip is tight enough to be near unbearable. "You know I am," he says.

"We'd be interrupted out here," David says, nodding to the darkened corridor at the top of the stairs. "My room."

"After you," Young says, turning him by the collar, the other hand at the small of his back to push.

David lets himself be steered, unbinding the matching strap around his arm as he climbs the last stairs. The leather slides down into his hands, dragonhide, supple but strong: it is not decorative, but rather a brace to support him when he triggers his Remnant, and it will be sturdy enough for other purposes.

"You leave it locked?" Young asks, at the door.

"As a rule," David says, reaching for his key. "There are some rather ill-intentioned people around, I hear." He takes as deep a breath as the tight collar will allow, and opens the door.

Young pushes him, as he expected; as soon as the pressure on his throat eases, David sidesteps, so the tackle that should have brought him down only drops Young to his knees. David lashes out with the leather strap taut between his hands, loops it around Young's thick neck and pulls tight. Young fights, tries to throw him off, tries to elbow him and then -- when that doesn't work -- gropes behind himself as though he's reaching for David's cock. David doesn't let himself get distracted, doesn't let go: every second that passes turns the odds further in his favor, so long as he keeps the strap tight.

"Still up for it on my terms?" he asks, when Young's struggles begin to subside.

Another second passes, two, three, and then Young nods sharply.

"You do have another choice," David says, as he eases the tension on the strap and Young sucks in a deep breath. He won't be the sort of master that Hermeien was. "You can leave, if you don't want this."

Young shakes his head. "I'm game," he says hoarsely. He reaches back, wraps one big hand around David's calf. "Gimme what you got, marquis."

David takes a moment to tie the strap in a quick slip knot, so he can pull it taut one-handed. "Take your trousers off," he says, and pulls.

Young manages to curse once before he no longer has the breath to spare. His hands hurry on the fastenings of his leathers, and David takes the moment that buys him to strip off his gloves and reach into his pocket for some relaxing herbs. Buckles jingle as Young shoves his trousers down.

It takes both hands to loosen the strap again -- and it's telling that Young hasn't tried to do so for himself. David slides his fingers under the makeshift collar, tugs until it's loose enough for Young to breathe. When Young opens his mouth to gasp for air, David's hand is there, pressing the herbs to his lips. He laughs shortly, snapping at David's fingers, but a quick tug on his improvised leash puts a stop to that.

"That how you do your boyfriend?" Young asks when he's swallowed the herbs. "You dose him up to make him easy?"

"You didn't seem the type to prefer a slow, romantic approach," David says. He is carrying oil, he discovers, though it's his last flask; they'll need to stop for more before they leave town.

Young reaches back to pet him again. "Come on, I'm a romantic," he says. He looks back over his shoulder, his grin wide and dangerous.

David smirks back. "You'll forgive me for my skepticism," he says. He pushes Young down onto his hands and knees, uncorks the flask of oil.

"Hey, it's true," Young says, and David pushes two oiled fingers into him. "Fuck the Imperator's whore, you _bastard_."

He's going to take those curses as a compliment, David thinks. He twists his fingers, pulls back and pushes again, watching the shudders that roll through Young's shoulders. There's a thrill to it, wresting surrender from someone as physically powerful as Young.

"You'll tell me if I'm moving too fast for you," he says; of course, the phrasing virtually guarantees the answer --

"Could take you any time," Young says. "Come on."

The herbs probably make that true enough; his body certainly responds easily. David withdraws, none too carefully, and oils his cock. "Give it to me, then," he says, and pushes.

There's an instant of resistance, even with the influence of the relaxing herbs, and then he buries his cock in Young's heat. Young curses him, loudly and inventively, reaching under himself.

"That's what you wanted, is it?" David says. He reaches forward to take hold of the leather strap where it circles Young's nape, the same grip Young had on him earlier. He twists the strap, pulling it tight. Young chokes, bucking under him, clenching around his cock.

When he eases the tension, Young says, "Don't go easy on me, you son of a bitch," shoving back toward him hard.

He's like a sovani, David thinks -- happy to be bested as long as he's satisfied with the prowess of his partner. Well. That's certainly a game David enjoys -- he makes nearly a pattern of it, tightening the collar to cut off Young's air, then releasing him again. The way Young tightens around him is compelling, intoxicating. David works to keep his control intact -- he won't want to finish first in an encounter like this.

The tone of Young's curses is growing more desparate, though, and that isn't only for lack of breath. David drives in hard, forcefully, demanding bodily satisfaction from him -- and the clutch of muscle as Young climaxes is nearly the same as the helpless thrashing when he can't breathe.

It's maddening, hot and so tight, and his point is made now; David lets his control slip as Young relaxes beneath him, lets his thrusts grow ragged and needy, lets himself finish in a bolt of clear, arcing pleasure down his spine.

He keeps hold of Young's leash as he withdraws afterward, but Young doesn't move to fight him. "So," he says, rising to his feet, 'has your curiosity been satisfied?"

Young reaches up to tug the strap loose at his throat, but he doesn't rise from his knees. "I guess so," he says. He grins up at David, still nearly as wild as before, even with the herbs to dampen his responses. "Not sure I can explain this to the other guys, though. So they might still have questions."

"Indeed." He should have expected that, David supposes. "Well. If they bring their concerns to me," he says, meeting Young's eyes evenly and only smiling a little, "I will do my best to answer them with equal thoroughness."


End file.
